King's Pleasure (17 page)

“L
eigh, honey. Wake up.”

Leigh woke to the gentle rocking of her shoulders and groaned. Unfortunately, her stomach joined the motion of her shoulders, and she immediately bolted out of bed and sprinted to the bathroom. All the contents of her late-night refrigerator raid came out.

“I knew it,” her mother said excitedly from the bathroom doorway. “You’re pregnant!” Sheree clapped her hands and started bouncing. “Wait until your father hears. He’ll owe me a month’s worth of breakfasts in bed. I told him last night that you were knocked up.” She gasped. “You know this means we’ll have to move up the wedding date.” She started making new plans while she waltzed over to the linen closet and pulled out a small face towel. “I know it’s a bit old-fashioned, dear, but having a noticeable baby bump on your big day is still considered bad form.”

Her mother moved over to the sink, turned on the water and made a cool compress. “I know getting the caterer, baker and florist to commit to an earlier date shouldn’t be a problem, but the venue may be a grand mal–inducing migraine.” She shook her head. “But don’t you worry about it. I’m all over it. Now, as for an obstetrician, I know this fabulous—”

“Mom,” Leigh moaned.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“There’s not going to be a wedding.” She reached up and took the cold towel from her mother’s hands and pressed it to her forehead. “Thanks for the compress.”

Sheree shook her head and tried to clear it. “Say that again, because it almost sounded like—”

“DeShawn and I are not getting married.” Leigh struggled to her feet. “We broke up last night.” She shuffled out of the bathroom, certain that she looked like the walking dead. In the bedroom Ariel peeled herself out of bed. “Morning. How do you feel?”

“Probably about as good as I look.”

Ariel winced. “Damn.”

“Wait a minute,” Leigh’s mother said, coming out of her shock and strolling out of the bathroom behind her daughter. “How could you two be broken up? Does DeShawn know about the baby?”

“Oh, he knows, all right,” Leigh said, making it all the way to the kitchen and then stopping briefly to wonder whether she could stomach the strong smell of coffee this early in the morning.

“If you want,” Ariel said, joining her, “I can make the coffee.”

Leigh looked at her and then shook her head.

“Tea?”

Another head shake.

“Then how about orange juice?”

“I think I can handle that.”

“Good. You can have the orange juice and I’ll have a screwdriver.”

“Hello?” her mother said, irritably. “Baby? Wedding? Somebody say something. I think I’m one minute from having a nervous breakdown.”

Leigh turned toward her mother’s wide and expectant eyes and felt a wave of embarrassment for having to make this confession. But putting it off really wasn’t an option. “The wedding is off for a host of reasons. One, because I’m no longer in love with DeShawn. And to be honest with you I haven’t been in a long while. Two, I told DeShawn last night that I had been with another man during the last time we broke up. And three…” She drew in a deep breath.

“And three?” Sheree pressed as she held her breath.

“And—and I’m having the other man’s baby.”

Her mother gasped, but then clearly realized that having a fit of apoplexy was not the way to go. “Okay, okay. Well…I am… Well—” She glanced over at Ariel who was pouring vodka into her orange juice.

“Ariel, honey. I think I’m going to need one of those.”

“Coming right up.”

“Well, okay, then.” Her mother slumped into one of the stools at the breakfast counter. She waited until Ariel handed her the screwdriver before she attempted to speak again, and only then after she had taken a healthy gulp. “So…okay. DeShawn is out and this new young man—does he have a name?”

“Jeremy,” Leigh said. “Jeremy King.” She tried to ignore the delicious quiver that raced through her at the mere mention of his name.

Her mother nodded and then stopped. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

DeShawn had talked about his best friend to her parents countless times. They, like her, just had never had the opportunity to put a face to a name—until last night.

“Didn’t DeShawn have a friend named…?” Her mother’s eyes grew even wider as she shook her head. “No! It can’t be the same guy, is it?”

Leigh’s good-girl image had officially crashed and burned.

“By some weird ironic joke…I’m afraid it is. I simply didn’t know at the time.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m sitting down.” She looked at her drink. “And it’s too early in the morning to have more than one of these…isn’t it?”

“Mom, I know this is a lot to take in. And I understand if you’re disappointed…”

“Now, Leigh, let’s not confuse shock with disappointment. I’m your mother. I’m going to love you no matter what. And I refuse to believe that this child you’re carrying is a mistake or an accident. He or she was meant to be and that’s good enough for me.”

Leigh smiled and then walked over to her mother’s outstretched arms for a much-needed embrace.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“Ugh. Who could that be calling so early?” Leigh asked, pulling out of her mother’s arms and heading over to the phone. Once she read the name on the caller ID, she froze.

“Who is it?” her mother and Ariel asked in unison.

Beep!

“Hello?” Jeremy’s deep baritone filtered through the speakers. “Yes, this is Jeremy King. (pause) I’m looking for a Leigh Matthews. I’m hoping that this is the right number. If so, I’d really appreciate it if you would give me a call back. I…know that there’s a chance that you might not want to do that, especially after my appalling behavior last night.”

Pause.

“There really isn’t a good excuse for that…and I wish… I hope that you will give me the opportunity to apologize to you in person. So please, give me a call. My cell phone is—”

“Aren’t you going to write the number down, sweetie?” her mother asked.

Leigh stared at her machine like it had just fallen from outer space. “How did he get my number?”

Ariel shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt that it’s all that hard, especially now that he knows your name.”

“Why wouldn’t he have known your name?” her mother asked, trying to keep up with the conversation.

Leigh ignored the question while another horrifying thought assailed her. “You don’t think—” she glanced over at Ariel “—that he knows?”

“About the baby?” Ariel said, and then gave her another shrug. “Anything is possible. You know men gossip worse than women.”

“DeShawn could’ve left here and gone straight over there,” she reasoned. “He could’ve told him about the breakup and about…”

“So I take it that the young man didn’t know?” her mother asked.

“Heck, I didn’t know until yesterday, Momma.” Leigh plopped down on the stool next to her and tried to process all of this. “Everything is moving so fast.”

“Humph. You better get used to the pace, sweetheart. Once you become a mother, time starts ticking at warp speed.”

A mother.

Ariel finally asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “Are you going to call him back?”

“And say what?”

Sheree cut in. “Well, you can tell him whether or not you accept his apology. I don’t know about you, but he sounded pretty sincere to me.”

Leigh thrust her hip out to the side and folded her arms.

“Or not,” her mother amended. “I thought it would at least be a nice conversation starter. Can I risk asking what it is that he did that got you so upset?”

Leigh remembered Jeremy’s rant vividly. And the last thing she wanted to do was to recite the entire ugly episode to her mother.
Especially the “crazy gold-digging ho” part.

“You know what?” Leigh said, shaking her head. “I can’t deal with him right now.”

“You’re going to have to deal with him sooner or later.”

“Yeah. Well…I choose later—much, much later.”

Jeremy couldn’t shake the feeling when he hung up the phone that Leigh had just heard every word he’d said but had refused to pick up the phone. Not that he could really blame her. His behavior last night looked even worse when viewed in the light of day.

But somehow he had to figure out a way to fix all of this—with Roy
and
Leigh—
especially
with Leigh.

He’d slept in his office, his home away from home. He slept there not because he’d pulled an all-nighter at work, but because he was too shocked by everything that had happened to drive. All in all, he might have gotten about two hours of sleep. And then suddenly, his dreams were filled with babies and baby showers?
Weird.

Yet somehow, the dream made him feel good. Now that the idea of becoming a father had had a chance to marinate, he discovered that he really wasn’t all that scared. If anything, he was excited.

A father.
The list of things that he wanted and could do with his child was endless. He was so excited that he popped up that morning, brewed some coffee and went online. After just a few clicks, he was able to find the Leigh Matthews that he was looking for.

But now what?

What if she didn’t return his call?

What if she had already decided that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him?

What then?

She’ll call,
he thought, trying to reassure himself.

The usually confident voice inside his head didn’t sound so confident. If anything it sounded like an all-in poker bet at the blackjack table.

I hope she calls.

Hope. That tiny pinprick was still hanging in there.

After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, Jeremy made his next big phone call. Roy. Even before all the speed-dial numbers appeared on the cell-phone screen, Jeremy’s heart rate had accelerated a good twenty percent. It was crazy, since it wasn’t like he was about to drop his bombshell over the phone. He just wanted to nail down a time and a place where they could hook up and talk—preferably, somewhere public, where the chance of Roy committing homicide was less likely.

When the call went to voice mail, Jeremy was both relieved and disappointed. He left a quick message asking Roy to call back. He waited for a few minutes, hoping that Roy would call back quickly. When that didn’t happen, he elected to go grab some breakfast from the café a few blocks down the street. As he walked through the club, the day crew was already cleaning and stocking up.

“Jeremy,” Delilah called out. “You have a moment?”

“Sure.” He glanced at his watch as he strolled back to work. The hostess’s daytime look was a makeup-free face and a Nike running suit. “What’s up?”

Her face pinched. “Well, actually… I don’t really know how to bring this up.”

He chuckled. “You?” He blinked in surprise. His opinionated hostess had never been tongue-tied before. “Well, it must be awfully serious.”

“I think it is.”

At hearing that, he sobered. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“It’s about Quentin.”

The words hit him like a sucker punch. “All right. What about him?”

“Well—a few of us are a little concerned.”

“How do you mean? Has he done something?”

She hesitated again. “Look. It’s not like we don’t all talk to ourselves now and then. But a couple of us—myself included—have seen Quentin sort of talking or arguing with himself. You don’t think he’s cracking up, do you?”

Jeremy first instinct was to say no, but then he remembered that brief incident in his office last night. Hadn’t it seemed like Quentin was arguing with someone who wasn’t there?

“Thanks for bringing it to my attention. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Delilah’s shoulders relaxed with relief. She had clearly been nervous about approaching him with this. “Thanks. And I’m really sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but we felt that we needed to say something.”

“Don’t worry. You did the right thing,” he assured her with a quick smile.

He turned and headed out of the club. After more than a year of playing Pass the Cousin, Jeremy decided that it was time to change course. Sliding in behind the wheel of his Porsche, he scooped his cell out of his pocket and made one more call. “Hello, Quentin?”

I
’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.

Leigh kept her eyes closed standing under the hot shower while she repeated the mantra. She had hoped that the more she said the words, the more it would strengthen her resolve. So far, it wasn’t working. It probably had a lot to do with the sound of Jeremy’s voice on her answering machine. Sure. He sounded all humble and contrite now. But that probably had a lot more to do with him finding out that she was pregnant than anything else—and she was nearly a hundred percent certain that he knew.

Last night, she was the crazy gold-digging ho. Today, what—he found out that she was possibly having his child and wanted to change up?
Please.

Leigh ground her teeth. What had she ever seen in him before—other than the obvious? Sure, he was handsome, charming and successful—but so was DeShawn. In fact, those two being best friends had to be another red flag. What did they say, “birds of a feather flock together”?

If DeShawn was a dog, then certainly his best friend, Jeremy, was too.

I’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.

He called to apologize for his appalling behavior.
Humph. Guess now I’m supposed to just forget everything he said last night so he can clear his conscience,
she thought. Leigh shook her head and tried to strengthen her resolve.

I’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.

By the time Leigh stepped out of the shower, her mantra was still holding fast. That is until she hit Play on the answering machine again and again. Jeremy’s sexy baritone embraced her. It was difficult for her to ignore that she had more than a few heartstrings tugging at her.

Surprisingly, there was still a little part of her that wanted to forgive Jeremy for his explosive reaction last night. After all, every time she took a moment to try and see things his way, there was an argument to be made that he could’ve felt duped in this whole scenario, especially if he hadn’t known that she and DeShawn had broken up during the time they met. Maybe DeShawn doesn’t tell his boy everything. In
that
case, she might have looked a little…sorta, kinda
loose.
And
maybe
the idea that she was stepping out on his best friend and had intentionally entangled him in a web that could potentially destroy their friendship, then maybe, just maybe, he did have the right to be angry.

That still did not make it okay to call her a crazy gold-digging ho.

Of course, there was also that scene in the back office of The Dollhouse. She flushed. But he
knew
she was engaged, too. Was it okay for him to make a move on another man’s woman as long as it wasn’t someone
he
knew?

He had some nerve. For the past couple of months, she had been fantasizing about this man, and now she could hardly stand the thought of him.

That’s not true.

It wasn’t true now. But if she said it enough times, it might become true.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Despite her constant rehashing of the events in recent weeks, and admitting that from Jeremy’s perspective there was a
slight
chance that she looked like she was playing his best friend, Leigh still felt that he should have given her a chance to explain herself.

But no.

Instead, he dragged her out of her engagement party and threatened to expose her infidelity in a claustrophobic walk-in freezer.

But he did call to apologize.

And there she was—having come full circle—still not knowing whether she was going to accept his apology or not.

I’m not going to call him. I’m not going to call him.

An hour later, Leigh strolled into Dr. Norman’s office with her stomach twisted in knots. Her mother pulled a few strings to get her the appointment on such short notice so that they could confirm what several home pregnancy tests had already told her.

After signing in, she and her mother found two seats in the waiting room and began the doctor’s office ritual of scanning ages-old magazines, while waiting for her name to be called.

“In other news,” the entertainment reporter said, from the mounted flat-screen television in the corner, “NBA star DeShawn Carter is officially off the market. In a statement released by his publicist, the star basketball player has recently tied the knot with his longtime gal pal, and exotic dancer, Sydney Russell, a.k.a. Caramel Swirl. The statement also states that the couple is expecting their second child later this year.”

Sheree gasped, while Leigh stared at the screen. There was something wrong with her hearing. The reporter couldn’t have possibly said what Leigh thought she’d said.

The reporter’s handsome co-anchor turned his head and asked, “DeShawn Carter and Caramel Swirl? I thought he was engaged to another woman, an L.A. screenwriter?”

The reporters smiled benignly. “Who can keep up with celebrity couplings these days?” She turned back toward the camera. “On to the Middle East…”

After a few seconds, Sheree turned toward her daughter. “Who on earth is Caramel Swirl?”

Leigh shook her head. She knew the name well. It was the same woman who had always come between her and DeShawn. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. Let’s just hope he’s happy.”
Bastard
.

“Married? What do you mean he’s married?” Jeremy asked Quentin, who sat across from him at the Breakfast Café. This wasn’t the reason he asked his cousin to join him for breakfast. But after Q dropped the latest bombshell, he was rendered speechless.

“It says so right here,” Quentin said, flipping over a thin newspaper and shoving it toward Jeremy. “I heard it on the radio on the way over here. Couldn’t believe it until I bought the paper right outside, and bam! There you go—your man cheesing in the gossip section. Recognize the chick under his arm?”

Jeremy leaned in and blinked. “Is that—?”

“Caramel Swirl,” Q said, shaking his head. “You know, it’s about time I rolled my butt up out of this city. All this woman-sharing is starting to creep me out—and that’s saying something.”

Jeremy couldn’t stop shaking his head. “Roy referred her to me, but he never said anything about them being in any relationship. And…a
second
kid? What the hell?”

“Seems your boy has a hell of a lot of secrets.”

“Yeah, but
this
—this is something else altogether. And last night he seemed so crushed about Leigh not being pregnant with his baby.”

“I don’t know. I guess I can see where he’s coming from.”

Jeremy glanced up. “You can?”

“Yeah. I mean, he kept the good girl on his arm and the freaks on the side. But if the good girl can flip the script on you like that, then why not just marry your freak and save yourself the trouble? Plus, he was awfully concerned about being a laughingstock last night. Maybe he just didn’t want the sun to rise today, and the grapevine be all about him getting played on the night of his engagement party. This way, it looks like Leigh was the one that got dumped. Brilliant playa move— I’m impressed.”

“What—is there some playa handbook out there I don’t know about? How come you know all these supposed moves?”

“Nah. Nah. Nobody is crazy enough to write this stuff down. You do, and the whole system collapses. Women get hold of something like that and it’s a wrap.” Q trembled at the thought.

Jeremy’s gaze returned to the article. When he was through reading, he read it again. Despite all Q said, he still had a hard time wrapping his head around why Roy would make such an impulsive move.

“C’mon. Stranger things have been known to happen, especially in L.A.”

Jeremy tossed the article down and slumped back in the booth. “This is probably going to crush Leigh.” He tried to imagine her reaction to all of this.

“Or not,” Q said, signaling for the waitress. “Do you think that she’s still in love with him?”

Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. He was forced to admit, “I honestly have no clue. It’s not like we’ve ever had the chance to talk about it.”

“Yeah, you two have that whole cart before the horse thing going on.”

Jeremy nodded. “Maybe. But right now, I’d be happy if she just called me back.” He scooped out his BlackBerry to see whether he’d somehow missed a call.

Q chuckled. “Maybe you should swing by one of those sports stores and see about picking yourself up some knee pads. If you’re seriously going to pursue this, then you’re going to be groveling for a minute. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

Sighing, Jeremy nodded again. “Yeah, I’ve been having that same feeling myself.” He reached for his coffee. At least now, he knew why Roy hadn’t returned any of his calls. He was on his honeymoon.

Married…with kids.

“Heeeeey, Jeremy. Long time no see.”

He glanced up and smiled. “Hey, Ella. What’s the day’s special?”

Ella smiled and twirled her hips as she recited the breakfast specials.

Jeremy listened, but they both knew what he was going to order. “I’ll have my usual.”

“Your order is already in.” She winked, letting him know just how well she knew his routine. She then turned her attention to Quentin, and gave him the same flirtatious smile.

Q winked. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

“You got it.” Ella winked back before pivoting and strolling back toward the kitchen with an extra oomph to her walk.

“All right. Now that I’ve dropped my little bombshell on you this morning, pray tell, what the hell am I even doing up at this ungodly hour?”

Jeremy sighed. He really didn’t want to have this discussion.

“You do remember calling me and telling me that you needed to talk, don’t you? You’re a little too young to be having memory problems.”

“Yeah, I want to talk to you about something that has been brought to my attention.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I talked to Delilah this morning and she brought up some concerns that she and some of the other employees were having about you.”

“Me?”

“Your health.”

Quentin laughed. “What? I’m fine. I’m the very picture of good health—mainly because of my mother’s genes.”

Jeremy smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s more about your
mental
health.”

Q’s brows arched up as his tone dropped a notch. “Oh?”

“I have to admit that I’ve been a little concerned, as well.” He paused, but Q remained silent. “Have you been feeling okay? How’s your stress level?”

“Stress?” Quentin found his humor again. “Stress and overexertion are two things I try to avoid at all cost.”

Jeremy studied his cousin. But since he wasn’t a doctor, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Last night. You were sort of talking to yourself—more like arguing.”

“Oh—that?”

“Yeah—that.”

Quentin waved him off with an awkward laugh. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“But you are aware that you do talk to yourself?”

“And you don’t?” Q spun the question back on him. “Everyone talks to themselves from time to time. It’s no big deal.”

That was true, but there was still something a little off about it.

“So that’s it?” Q said. “I dragged myself out of bed because I had a debate with myself over whether to have a drink or not?”

“And the concerns of the employees.” Jeremy sucked in a breath and tried again. “Look, man. Maybe you should just go talk to someone. Get a lot of that stuff that you’re carrying around off your chest.”

“What? You mean like a therapist or something?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not crazy,” Quentin snapped.

Jeremy held up his hands, surrendering. He’d stated his case. That’s all he could do.

Ella arrived with their food and Quentin’s tense features softened. He went back to flashing his deadly dimples at the waitress.

“You boys enjoy your meals,” she said, winking.

“Absolutely,” Quentin said and then watched the sway of her hips as she strolled off. He started to turn his attention back to Jeremy, when someone coming into the café caught his eye. “Yo, cuz. Isn’t that your future baby momma over there?”